Mommy's Not Going Anywhere
by Neo Diji
Summary: When young Ed and Al think their mother has gone missing, Trisha has to reassure them of her safety. Bittersweet family fluff. No pairings.


Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.

No pairings. Just bittersweet family fluff. Takes place about three years before Trisha…in that regard, vague spoilers for episode three.

Originally posted 1/3/06.

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Mommy's Not Going Anywhere

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"Ow!" Alphonse Elric yelped as stumbled, crashing to the ground and scraping his knee on a sharp stick. The pain-filled yell alerted his older brother to the injury, causing the elder Elric to retrace his steps. "Thank you, brother," Al breathed as his brother pulled him to his feet. He gasped as he tried to take a step, blood trickling from his leg where he grazed the skin.

Edward's laughing smile faded as he realized the extent of the injury. Anything involving blood was their mom's forte. "Al," he murmured, turning and crouching so the younger could climb on his back and be carried home piggy-back style. "Let's get Mom to take care of that, okay?" he asked, already knowing Al would agree with the plan.

Nodding as Ed knew he would, the younger Elric clutched his brother's shoulders and winced, trying not to let the tears fall because of the stinging pain in his knee. "Okay, Brother," he mumbled. "But don't tell Mom that I was crying," the brownish-blond haired boy half-pleaded, wanting to appear brave in front of his mother.

Hearing the waver in the younger's voice, Ed nodded. Now wasn't the time to tease or initiate a fight. "Of course, Al," he said softly, starting to lurch his way from the surrounding trees.

As usual, the Elric brothers had been playing outside before the accident had occurred, chasing each other in a game of tag and tackle. Their carefree days were only spoiled by minor injuries such as the scrape on Al's knee, with the ever-present absence of their father looming in the background. But in every misfortune, minor or otherwise, both Edward and Alphonse turned to the one person they trusted above all else—their mother.

The elder blond sighed in relief when he caught sight of their house. He may have been a strong seven year old, but his younger brother was still heavy. He let Al hop off his back before taking his hand, leading him inside their house. "Mom!" Ed yelled out, rather demandingly, as he was wont to do.

Nobody answered. Al fidgeted and bit his lip to keep from crying, the old threat of tears returning full-force. Ed started to panic, fearing something serious had happened. What if their mom had left? Like their dad?

"Stay here," Edward warned, to which Al only nodded slightly, not trusting himself to speak. The older brother returned the nod firmly before rushing throughout every room of the house, frantically searching for any sign of their mom. Maybe they were both overreacting, but the Elric brothers tended to make a big deal out of anything concerning their mother.

When Ed returned to the front door empty-handed, meaning he wasn't dragging a laughing brown-haired woman behind them, the younger brother collapsed to the floor. "What if something happened to her, Brother? Where is she? What are we going to do without her?" Al sputtered, dreading the future already.

"Maybe she just went out for a walk," Ed suggested uneasily, shrugging. "We need to find her! What are we goin' ta do for your knee, though?"

"That's not important, Brother! What if something happened to Mom?!" Alphonse all but wailed.

Ed sighed, feeling Al's emotional turmoil start to infect him. He was the older brother; he was supposed to be the calm and independent one. "We'll find her," he reassured, heading out the door. His younger brother hobbled after him, ignoring the sharp throbbing in his knee and the drying blood in favor of finding their precious mother.

Both brothers looked about the mountainous country landscape, knowing she could be behind any hill or in any valley. Undeterred by the amount of land they had to potentially search to find her, Ed and Al quickly started calling her name and checking with the neighbors to begin their desperate search.

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Trisha Elric sank against the waving grass, letting her head fall back to face the sky. She closed her eyes, just feeling the wind blow about her and the grass tickle her bare feet. Earlier that morning, she had had another bout of pain and unexplainable sickness. Over the years, her condition had worsened. But it was still nowhere near life-threatening, or at least she hoped so. For she certainly hadn't told anybody of the frequent illnesses, especially her much-loved sons.

Believing Edward and Alphonse to be outside playing throughout the day, she quietly slipped from the house for a moment of alone-time. Being in the house when she already felt so miserable physically only reminded her of her emotional suffering. Because of _him_. Hohenheim. Her husband had abandoned her shortly after Alphonse was born, leaving their sons very without a father figure. And even though she hated the fact that he had left her, she only wished he would return home soon and grace her with his presence once more.

Very soon, she hoped, because it could soon become impossible to repair his relationship with their eldest son. Edward already showed signs of hating Hohenheim's very name, even though he claimed he didn't exactly _hate_ his father. Trisha suspected that he only said that for her and Alphonse's sake, for which she was slightly grateful. She'd prefer Edward not hate Hohenheim, but she knew that from Ed's perspective, it was one of the only conceivable emotions available for him to feel in regards to his father.

She sighed, slumping where she sat. Even if she couldn't have her beloved husband, she had his sons. And how she loved Edward and Alphonse! She would do anything to take care of them and make them happy, as they would for her. They were the light in her life, the only bright spark in the blanket of blackness caused by Hohenheim's disappearance. And that was why she couldn't tell them about her illness. She couldn't— _wouldn't_ —worry them and sadden them with something that very well could be nothing. She couldn't bear to see Ed's golden eyes darken to amber in despair and concern, couldn't bear to see Al's teary eyes and trembling lips. They would be happier not knowing, not having to worry about their mother's well-being. She would be fine, Trisha told herself.

Nothing was going to happen. And if nothing was going to happen, then there was no point in burdening her sons with the details of her physical deterioration. _Ed and Al should be focusing on alchemy_ , she mused, _instead of worrying about me_. That was how she wanted it.

Her sons' alchemy talents, especially Edward's, were another sign of Hohenheim she saw in them. Through her sons, she still had a bit of her husband left with her. Though with her sickness, she wondered if her sons were all she had of him. Were all she'd ever have of him from there on out.

Her musings were interrupted when she heard the hysterical screams of two young boys in the hills. She frowned, hearing the misery in their voices. Those were surely not screams of joy in some childish game; those were heartbroken sobs of upset children. And listening more closely, her eyes widened: her sons.

"Edward! Alphonse!" she screeched, climbing to her feet and sweeping some loose grass off her purple dress. She heard the pattering of feet on the dirt before she caught sight of her eldest son pelting towards her from over the crest of a hill.

"Mom!" he screamed, barreling into her and clutching her in desperation about her stomach. "Al an' I were so worried," he sniffled, burying his face in her apron. "You weren't home an' we thought somethin' had happened to you. You're okay, right? Mom?" Edward asked, tilting his head upwards to check with his own eyes that his mother was fine and dandy.

Before Trisha could answer, her other son limped over the hill, shuffling as fast as he could with his injury. The young mother gasped, noticing the dried bloodstains around Al's knee. "Alphonse!" she exclaimed worriedly, but he, too, only seemed to care about her safety.

Touched by her sons' purity, innocence, and selflessness, Trisha wrapped her arms around both of them and sank to her knees, holding them close.

At the moment, Edward was only a small boy, all of seven years old. His life was spent playing with his younger brother and neighborhood friend in the countryside of his hometown, studying alchemy, and spending time with his beloved mother. His only troubles, besides the insignificant troubles of a scraped knee or lighthearted brotherly scuffle, were making his mother happy when she got sad because of _him_ (Edward always refused to refer to Hohenheim as 'father') and taking it upon himself to be the man of the family, no matter how young and naive he was. When he was seven, he didn't have the ever-increasing pressure to find the Philosopher's Stone and restore Al's body, didn't have to put up with the corrupt military environment he would soon be thrown into, didn't have to listen to an egotistical superior breathing down his neck to complete missions for the State. In short, he was not yet known as the 'Hero of the People, Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric.'

Likewise, Alphonse Elric was also still just a boy, only six years old. He was not a soul trapped in steel; he was a rather healthy, exuberant youth, capable of feeling sensations to the fullest with his youthful vigor. His simple life consisted of competing alchemy with his older brother, playing in the hills of Resembool, and making sure his mother was happy (usually by showing off his and Ed's alchemic breakthroughs). He wasn't exposed to the death and violence that would later become as part of his life as his mommy was now.

At this point, they were only two young boys who were upset when the center of their lives went missing.

Trisha closed her eyes and pulled her sons closer, leaning her head to rest between them. Though a single tear leaked down her cheek, she obediently put on the usual brave front she wore to reassure her boys that she was fine. And because she hated to see them so upset, she smiled and tried her best to soothe their fears. Swallowing her doubts about the truth of her own situation, she still reassured them the best she could by telling them the one thing she thought they needed to hear.

Crushing the anguish inside her chest, she whispered into their hair, "Don't worry, my little guys. Mommy's not going anywhere."


End file.
